


Bad Angel

by warmheartseek



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Blasphemy, Coming In Pants, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:15:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26524312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmheartseek/pseuds/warmheartseek
Summary: Aziraphale can be a bit too gluttonous, and Crowley prefers to sort the angel out in his own way.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 36





	Bad Angel

“You’re indulgent.”

“Crowley.”

“You’re spoiled.”

“ _ Crowley _ .” 

Aziraphale whined, his neck straining back with his words, desperate for Crowley to touch him more than he was. Clever, slender hands wrapped tight around his wrists kept Aziraphale’s arms behind his back while he stayed put, standing in front of Crowley though the demon himself stayed just out of reach behind Aziraphale. 

“Just like Paris, you can’t help yourself. You need someone to tell you when enough is enough.” 

Aziraphale tried to squirm one more time, hoping maybe he’d worn Crowley down or perhaps the demon would take pity on him just this once. 

“Please Crowley,” he tried, “ _ please _ .”

“You’re getting that way now Aziraphale. Sweet, spoiled little Angel isn’t getting his way, always wanting more, more,  _ more _ .” 

Crowley hardly used his first name like that, it was always, ‘Angel’ this and ‘Angel’ that, every time with a hint of softness that only Crowley could manage. 

“I do--oh, Crowley--I do want more,” Aziraphale knew he was acting petulant but he hardly knew another way to appeal to Crowley’s needs. 

Crowley leaned close to his ear again, making a point not to press his chest against Aziraphale’s back, only letting the unusual heat from his corporeal body occupy the space. 

“And what if I don’t give it to you?” 

His voice had dropped lower, like the crunch of gravel beneath a heavy boot heel. It made Aziraphale melt in a way that hardly bared repeating. 

“I’ll--I’ll never talk to you again!”

“Mmmm, tried that one already, won’t work a second time I’m afraid.”

Aziraphale was getting desperate, and they hadn’t even undressed yet. He was embarrassed by how little it took to excite him, hardly needing anything more than Crowley’s hands wrapped tight around his wrists and a sinfully salacious choice of words. Aziraphale thought for a moment that he was going about it all wrong, perhaps petulance wasn’t what the situation called for, perhaps a different element was necessary. The angel relaxed his shoulders and curled his spine just so he could rest himself back against Crowley, tucking his head into the crook of his neck. 

“My dearest, I simply don’t know how long I can go without more of you,” Aziraphale poured every ounce of adoration into his words, “those lovely, clever hands of yours awarding such indescribable pleasures.” 

Crowley made a noise in his throat he tried to hide with an unconvincing cough. Aziraphale smiled wide and pushed himself off of Crowley’s chest without the use of his hands, looked over his shoulder into bright, reptilian eyes. 

Six thousand years lends itself to learning a great deal about someone’s weaknesses. 

Crowley smiled back, but his was sharp, all brilliant teeth. 

“Oh you wicked,  _ sneaky _ little thing, trying to get at me like that. Well it’s not going to work, beautiful as you are when you’re playing nice.” 

Aziraphale pushed his lower lip out now, surprised when Crowley caught it between his teeth and tugged. It pulled a whining, pleading sound from Aziraphale who chased the feeling of Crowley’s lips against his own but was quickly met with open air. The demon came to stand in front of Aziraphale, finally releasing his wrists, though the angel knew better than to make any moves. Crowley held Aziraphale’s chin between his fingers, running a thumb along that pouting bottom lip. 

“You are exquisite, you can’t imagine how hard it is to deny you when you’re like this.” 

Aziraphale soaked in the praise like one of Crowley’s houseplants in the other room would soak up sunlight. 

“Then don’t Crowley, give us both what we want an--”

He was quieted with a shock of yellow directed at him, the slits of Crowley’s pupils growing narrow. 

“It’s a lesson, Angel. Sometimes you’re too reckless and it’s important you learn to control yourself.”

Aziraphale nodded. He knew as much, it’s why they did this in the first place, soft touches and loving words were nice for a time but just as often Aziraphale found himself wishing for Crowley’s stern hand to keep his balance. In a rare moment of weakness, Crowley cradled Aziraphale’s face with his hands, one on either cheek to kiss him slowly and sweetly. 

“You are doing so well, Angel. You are being  _ so _ good for me.” 

Aziraphale felt his entire body flush pink, his round cheeks curling into the palms of Crowley’s hands when he beamed at the praise. 

“Now, be a good Angel and get on your knees for me.” 

Aziraphale could do that, and do it with pride. He was all too happy to pleasure Crowley in such a way since he’d learned how it made Crowley hiss ancient, forgotten curses under his breath while he mindlessly ran his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair and tugged just right. So Aziraphale knelt in the middle of Crowley’s office, watched Crowley take a seat in the grand throne of a chair in front of Aziraphale. The angel sat obediently back on his heels, hands placed on his thighs to prove he could listen, he could be good and keep his hands to himself. Aziraphale made a move to scoot closer when he noticed Crowley sat just out of reach, but he was stopped with a single raised finger from the demon. 

“Ah, ah--stay.”

“But Crowley, my dear I can hardly reach you from here,” Aziraphale protested with a furrowed brow. 

“And  _ that _ is precisely the point,” he hit the last sound hard. 

“Crowley I don’t understan--”

Aziraphale was cut off by his own blush and a terribly laborious swallow when he noticed Crowley’s hand playing at his belt buckle, working it free in deliberately slow motion. 

“It’s a lesson, like I’ve said, and I plan to lead by example, Angel.” 

Crowley’s belt was undone now, the metallic snake head sitting heavy on the thigh of his trousers, where Aziraphale’s eyes couldn’t help but wander. His fingers pulled at his zipper, terribly slow and teasing, those slender, clever fingers that could drive Aziraphale mad. 

Aziraphale looked incredulously from the scene happening in front of him to the maddeningly smug look on Crowley’s face.

“You--Well, my--you  _ wouldn’t _ ,” Aziraphale stuttered. 

Crowley kept a light, teasing hand grazing over the growing situation behind his silk briefs. 

“Oh, but I would, Angel,” he paused with the tilt of his chin, “my dear, sweet Angel, sitting so pretty for me.” 

Aziraphale looked away for a moment, overwhelmed by the stifling embarrassment he felt under the scrutiny of Crowley’s eyes. He wasn’t self-conscious, not in the least. Aziraphale was very proud of his chosen corporeal form, he felt that the soft, slight roundness of his stomach matched his personality quite perfectly. 

But that look in Crowley’s eyes, like he was ready to devour every inch of Aziraphale. 

“No Angel, look at me. I want those lovely eyes to watch my every move. I am doing this for both of us, after all.” 

Aziraphale crossed his arms over his chest, petulant to still be wearing everything but his overcoat. 

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Aziraphale muttered under his breath.

Crowley stopped all of his teasing movement and snapped his head to the side, like the words had sent a hand hard across his face. 

“Care to repeat yourself, Angel?” 

Aziraphale shifted on his knees, they were beginning to get sore. 

“Not really.”

Crowley got up with a flourish, his belt buckle still hanging heavily on either side of his undone trousers. Aziraphale’s eyes wandered to the sight, he wanted nothing more than to peel back those layers and get a taste of what was underneath, to indulge in Crowley’s decadence for as long as the angel pleased. Crowley was right, Aziraphale delighted in spoiling himself. 

While Aziraphale had been lost in his own head, he had neglected to notice Crowley now standing over him, menacing with a tinge of irritation in the quirk of his mouth. 

“Go on, Angel. I want to see if you’re brave enough to say that again,” he emphasized with a tight grip on Aziraphale’s chin, “I want to see you be the big, bad angel.” 

Aziraphale swallowed hard, his eyes transfixed to Crowley’s and doing a piss poor job of hiding the regret on his face. It was fun to rile Crowley up unintentionally, ruffle his feathers as it were, but outright disobedience was an entirely different story.

“I am sorry, Crowley.” 

Crowley pulled Aziraphale closer by his tight grip on the angel’s chin. A serpentine tongue tickled Aziraphale’s soft, undefined jaw, accompanied by a quiet hiss. 

“You will be.” 

Crowley released his grip without ceremony, turning on his heel and settling back into the large throne he called a chair. His hand traveled back down to his tented briefs, deft fingers tracing up and down the delicate line of his arousal through the silken fabric. Aziraphale swallowed back his awe with the pleas that had worked their way onto the tip of his tongue, lest he make another wrong move, though he was curious what might happen if he did. The angel watched Crowley tease himself, unabashed and basking in Aziraphale’s gaze like he would when perched on a smooth rock in the sunlight. Crowley’s eyes began to wander from Aziraphale, his neck becoming more languid the longer his teasing went on. 

His long,  _ slender _ neck. How beautiful and pale it was, the way it became splotched with red and perhaps a tinge of embarrassment from Crowley. The demon was a chauvinist by nature but not without some effort. 

Aziraphale was broken from his concentration when Crowley’s hand reached past the waistband of his pants, gripping his own length and throwing his head back with an obscene sound. 

“ _ Nng--God _ , Aziraphale.” 

Aziraphale always blushed at the mention of God’s name in situations like this, which is precisely why Crowley made sure to do it as often as he pleased. 

Crowley was breathless, working his hand beneath the fabric and purposely just out of sight. Aziraphale had the perfect picture in his head, Crowley’s swollen cock being worked between his fist, perfectly red and leaking at the head. The thought made the front of Aziraphale’s trousers terribly uncomfortable, bringing himself back to the reality that he was still fully clothed. 

Aziraphale finally found the quiet words, “Tell me how it feels, Crowley. Please.” 

There were small beads of sweat tracing their way down the curve of Crowley’s neck. His tight clothes were certainly hot and uncomfortable in his current state, Aziraphale admired Crowley’s restraint, and all so he could prove a point. Typical demon. 

“So good, ‘Ziraphale. Bloody incredible.” 

“What are you thinking about, dear? Do tell me what you are picturing.” 

Crowley stifled another groan in his throat, “You-- _ nnd, _ you and your mouth. That brilliant, beautiful, infuriating mouth.” 

Crowley’s hand was working faster now, his hips beginning to meet the movement in rhythm. 

Aziraphale squirmed, his blush worked up to the tip of his curls now.

“Do you know how hot you are, Aziraphale? The way it turns me on when you use the same mouth for blessing that you do to pleasure me.” 

Aziraphale had never thought about it like that, but the idea was perfectly salacious. 

“I want so badly to please you, Crowley.” 

“Oh, you  _ do.  _ With every inch of you, just the thought of you is enough for me, and the feeling of your soft, warm mouth around my cock,” Crowley hummed, “now  _ that’s  _ Heaven, Angel.” 

_ Such language,  _ Aziraphale thought to himself though not entirely convinced he disliked it. 

“Let me please you, Crowley. I’ll be good for you, I swear.” 

“Mmmm, keep it up, Angel. Let me hear that voice.” 

Aziraphale could see there was no hope that he would actually be able to touch Crowley now, but if this is what his demon wanted then by God, Aziraphale was going to give it to him. 

“I’ll listen to your every command, my dear. I live to serve only you, everything I do is for you. I worship you d--”

Aziraphale was cut off by a much louder groan of his name, Crowley’s eyes shut tight, hand working in smooth synchronicity with his hips. 

“My dearest Crowley, you’re the most important thing in my world. I would kill for you, I would  _ die _ for you, oh-- _ oh my dear  _ I--I worship you above all else.” 

Aziraphale couldn’t help himself now, the air was thick with an intoxicating arousal between them. He mindlessly palmed at the tightness behind his trousers, enraptured by the image of Crowley draped over his throne and writhing in pleasure. Overcome with the weakness in his legs from kneeling for so long, Aziraphale folded forward with one hand to brace himself. 

“Look at me, Angel.” 

Azriaphale looked up to two glowing, yellow eyes pointed squarely in his direction, sharp pupils dilated to nothing more than a sliver in the center. The intensity pierced his very corporation, he felt as if Crowley might be able to see through to Azriaphale’s true form. Perhaps he could, despite knowing each other since the beginning of time, Aziraphale always felt that Crowley was more powerful than he might let on. 

Aziraphale let out a helpless whine of shame and excitement. He knew Crowley could see what his hand was doing. Aziraphale was being a very bad angel--blasphemous, lustful, and glutenous, always wanting more, more,  _ more _ . But that’s what this lesson was all about wasn’t it? 

Crowley made a high sound, his eyebrows coming together and his mouth falling open just so. His finish was strained and stuttered, the demon’s entire body seemed to shutter with release, mess falling over his hand and onto tight trousers. 

“Oh,  _ Crowley _ ,” Aziraphale breathed before he felt the sweet wave of his own climax wash over his body, a sticky warmth now sitting in his lap and staining his trousers. 

The two stayed in quiet for a few moments longer, letting breath and the smell of sex fill up every inch of the office. Aziraphale heard the snap of fingers and in a blink they were tucked neatly into Crowley’s bed, undressed and cleaned up. Aziraphale pressed himself tight to Crowley’s chest and breathed in the scent of him. 

Aziraphale was the first to break the silence. 

“You are a rather exquisite picture when you’re like that, dear.”

“Yah? Well you’re not so bad yourself there, Angel. Particularly liked that bit where you got off in your trousers.” 

Aziraphale scoffed and hoped against hope that his blush wasn’t noticeable in the dimness of the bedroom, “Crow--oh,  _ honestly _ . I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Mmmm, right, of course. Probably just imagined it, is that right?” 

“Yes. Quite.”

Crowley made a final hum of thought but said nothing, kept his arm draped around Aziraphale’s back while the angel felt the steady motion of Crowley’s breathing. The peace of the moment felt like it was made special for them.

“Hey, Angel?” 

Aziraphale craned his neck up to see Crowley and his furrowed brow, looking like he was intensely concentrated on something across the room before he finally looked down to Azriaphale’s waiting expression. Crowley smiled softly before he spoke and kept his voice low.   
  


“You know you are a  _ very _ good angel, right?” 

Aziraphale beamed in unabashed adoration for his partner and placed a hand on Crowley’s cheek, stroking the skin there with his thumb.

“You make me want to be a good angel, my dear. I do love you so.” 

Crowley cleared his throat and shifted a bit where he sat up in bed. 

“Right--of course. Love you too, Angel.” 

Crowley looked away hoping to conceal the creeping grin on his face, but it was Aziraphale’s job was to keep a trained eye on the beings of this world, and he was simply too good of an angel to miss that look. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> It's been a HOT ass minute since I've written anything, and I just be coping in different ways over here so forgive me if I'm a bit rusty. But I still have a deep love for these boys so I wanna be writing more when school allows! :D 
> 
> (Also I know it’s a little weird what I did with capitalizing Angel when crowley uses it to address zira I just thought it was like, ya know how people will capitalize God in text? And it’s a commentary on how Crowley sees Zira? Right? Get it? Anyways I’ll be going now)


End file.
